MILDRED--It would be rude to talk about anything to you. Let's
just talk. [She looks at her wrist watch.] Well, thank goodness,
it's about time for them to come for me. That ought to give me a
new thrill, Aunt.

AUNT--[Affectedly troubled.] You don't mean to say you're really
going? The dirt--the heat must be frightful--

MILDRED--Grandfather started as a puddler. I should have inherited
an immunity to heat that would make a salamander shiver. It will
be fun to put it to the test.

AUNT--But don't you have to have the captain's--or someone's--
permission to visit the stokehole?

MILDRED--[With a triumphant smile.] I have it--both his and the
chief engineer's. Oh, they didn't want to at first, in spite of my
social service credentials. They didn't seem a bit anxious that I
should investigate how the other half lives and works on a ship.
So I had to tell them that my father, the president of Nazareth
Steel, chairman of the board of directors of this line, had told
me it would be all right.

AUNT--He didn't.

MILDRED--How naive age makes one! But I said he did, Aunt. I even
said he had given me a letter to them--which I had lost. And they
were afraid to take the chance that I might be lying. [Excitedly.]
So it's ho! for the stokehole. The second engineer is to escort